


I fall to the night and the sky

by girlsarewolves



Series: we are the dust of the earth [4]
Category: The Vampire Diaries - L. J. Smith
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Power Imbalance, References to Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 15:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/775615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsarewolves/pseuds/girlsarewolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Come with me, pretty thing," he had said. "I will give you what your Italian boys could never have offered."</p><p>And eagerly she went. She followed him down, down, down his bloody path through the world; through civilizations and generations and eras.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I fall to the night and the sky

**Author's Note:**

> On a kick for Klaus/Katherine this weekend. Title taken from 'Cover My Eyes' by The Birthday Massacre. Feedback appreciated. :)

* * *

Once upon a time Katherine was a princess, delicate and frail and waiting for a miracle, an act of love; a sacrifice to make her whole. She was pure and innocent and untainted; not by choice but by design.  
  
The outside world was deadly; the air, the sights, the noises. Too much, too much for poor, weak, little Katherine. She was a princess, trapped by her own traitorous body and her father's fear, and so she had only her window. But glass buffers the sun's warmth and distorts its light, and Katherine dreamt of a life where she lived.  
  
And then he came. Brought to her by someone she trusted; brought to her by someone who loved her and could not let the fragile body she was born in give out before her dreams were realized. He came in his tatters and unruly hair and lightning in his icy, blue eyes.  
  
Katherine thought she could see the birth of winter, of cold death spreading over the earth for the first time, in his eyes.  
  
Klaus, the villagers called him. He was the dark figure of local gossip, the secretive talk she devoured on her few outings; the kind of stories her father did not want her to hear. Klaus, they called him, and said he was evil. A wicked, mysterious man - and he was to save her.  
  
It was an act of love that brought him there, but it was no sacrifice for him to bite his own wrist until it bled. It was no miracle that the taste of his blood forced into her mouth let her die only to bring her back tainted and empty and _hungry_.  
  
Katherine was happy to leave him behind for Italy - beautiful, foreign, new Italy, with its warm sun and endless countryside and pretty boys who had not known her when she was fragile and easy to shatter.  
  
But she was ever so happy when he found her feeding on rats in the streets of her village, unloved and unwanted by two selfish, selfish boys who only thought of themselves. She was happy when he gave her his blood this time; grateful for the sweet tang and the strength it put into her bones.  
  
"Come with me, pretty thing," he had said. "I will give you what your Italian boys could never have offered."  
  
And willingly she went. She followed him down, down, down his bloody path through the world; through civilizations and generations and eras.  
  
Time became a foreign concept in Katherine’s mind as decades swept by in dazzling parties and changing fashions and nights spent in finery that soon turned to bloody tatters. She lost track of the years in Klaus' hold; of those they preyed upon, humans and vampires alike. Months passed where she was content; weeks would come where she would long for her beautiful Italian boys.  
  
Weeks would pass where Klaus reminded her that he was the evil man from her village, the one who had gripped her head tight and forced his blood past her lips, down her throat. Then the days would return where he was her maker, her teacher and lover, and she would not miss Damon's smile or Stefan's eyes.  
  
And they would hunt. They were wolves in sheep's clothing, and they were wolves in the dark, proudly wearing their fur.  
  
The wicked man from her village was a conquerer, and dragging her with him, they conquered time itself. They lived and lived again; lifetimes passed, and they would begin anew. Always more throats to drain; always more lives to shatter; always more hearts to break.  
  
Katherine's faltering mind got lost in the violence and blood and lust; until she could not remember why she had loved Stefan and Damon and their warm, Italian sun, only that she had. Only that she did. Only that Klaus was not them, and that he hated for her to remind him.  
  
For Klaus was brutal and savage; he could dress up handsomely enough for a show, for the hunt - but the ruthless creature she called her master couldn’t help himself; he always ruined pretty things.


End file.
